The Sun. — London, England, 1836-09-01 00:00:00

`U4 LITERATURE. rn '7 , 7 411 _EPISTLE W TOAREND 12v . TO WN ; A RIV ICICSIIIRE; 4 :JD OTHER POEMS. 13 Y CH4?..,rpos LN€Crt, ESQ. Tilece See " (111 :a . ition. Richard Bentley. . in z, al ', l " .'gems '.re marked by an elevated tone of feel and h i ] ; lP:ace of expression, honourable to the heart i s a ' •alt of the author. Mr. Leigh, of Stonelci . gh, , hp • .4ellt•einan of large possessions in Warwickshire ; , a .._ , . , , t ii a , v Co IN lug, wnose life is occupied by en- Li lo, °ors to ameliorate the condition of those around Act b Y making his tenantry happy and prosperous, by c,,,!.0f hospitality at his mansion, and by a fortunate ,uitivation of the Muses, His, poetry is by turns con >s and de.scriptive, like that of Rogers ; there ; I ' 3 lloihi n 't totl gof passion in it, and we therefore recommend o tithe lo se 1, hl find relief, from the feverish excitement d, w °r l (l, ir, the charm of serene thoughts and melo ,--3 ver, ?A , • v‘re eY.t;a.ct the followino. little poem : ,It 74 .. " A CALM. last thou the high-spieed bowl of pleasure drained, 4_ind, since thy spirits fail thee now, art pained ? ,_ip and erect thy cottage near a cliff tdQat overlooks the lea; there build thy skiff, as the waves o'er waves precursive ride, ~aeoilldo.,aesr Ityhaeri-rh,orsAir, charging in their h pride, 1( gam thy d i oa , rning crests, or ply te o, , , 10,vrileorii., tl%, '' ' itn 'repent, and sin no more. downs, life of life inhale W hn ,' scents of wild thyme freshen through the gale ; CI ; ' m the gay gorse, a golden mass, abounds, T' Iterin g an d sharp as wit that, handled, wounds. i .4'e xPanse of plains, the boundlessness of seas,. ' e st, v/ith their charm sublime, the mind's disease ; A uk , , te elements and free, create a sense Of • ' ,„, primitive joy that quells e'en grief intense, Arid to the heart restore, whate'cr the loss ,13. Y friction with the world, its vernal gloss. t , A la Can the fathomless ocean view, and feel ii°ol:,Pbetty interests of this world a zeal ? tn-• e.autirui the ocean's argentry, 4eting the mild splendours of the sky f 0:3 woman's eyes reflect her partner's joy: . ariese sweet analogies our thoughts employ, ''' .:A v a the primeval work s o f H eaven we v i ew, aeli object touch e d w i t h h armon i z i ng hue ! Calm has eircumfused•the silvery deep, Seren e as beauty 's smile, or infant's sleep : I a very rocks look gentleness; the air 's huslyd, as charm ' d by a young spirit's prayer I All is a stirle ss so li tu d e, and now Ja Nature's asp ec t c l ear as J esus ' b row. Is as a vi ' 4l l it not solitudeAlnaigh t sible presence in this hour.y "Power AT the \irr• A CClDENT.—Yesterday morning as one of 15 f the w 't Country ma il s was passing through Kensington, one eid el c t fbeel horses fell and broke the pole. No further ac -4 "Iceurred, but the mail was delayed about half an hour. Y'aitl l slld aY, about twelve o'clock in the forenoon, a hi gb. of the name of Middleton, about thirteen, the son of frieli" res pectable'parent s residing in Edward.street, Black % pi ll 'ad, met with a watery grave whilst bathing in the canal e t4,4llehley.conarrion. The body was brought quite a ga . intl _ 17 0 was accidentally passing, but life was e . xtinct. tud "e harvest is now general throughout the fens, th e eot i n , Crop proves fully an average one. Oats have been thee i - °aela fine condition as to enable the growers to send fad ed '? Market almost direct from the field. Turnips have failedl4 I T'aily plac es • in one insta nce w h ere t h e see d h as Li ' t wice, a third ;owing was made on Monday week.-. ,Fa Gazette. . is 0 he Chief Baron of the Irish Court of Exchequer 1 4 toot to proceed on a rather extensive tour, during which Co °rc laiiii) means to visit Constantinople. let) kAlissrorr OF LUNACY.—The case of Mr. 4,!ge Lyon was concluded on Tuesday, when the Jury after ileitlN evidence, fund that Mr. George Lyon was of unsound 4 4 ' 1 fr om the 11th of February, 1835, up to the present De ll e at, and. that be was unfit to govern himself and his pro v, , v e r Teo proceedings concluded between seven and eight o e k . ike r :,.. eird a e. , DENT TO EARL CoRNwALLIs.-00 Sa- t Liu t - o n'ast, as Earl Cornwallis was driving in his park, a 9h!. 4v , 1 a - place, Kent, his vehicle overturned, and he fell th " Y on th e roa d, cutt i ng one of his temples very severely. vor are preso rry to say that, in consequence, h e now lies car • ious state. loen .Sattirda., O e , the Blucher coach, being very heavily l osiw' nr ,, r °k° dcWn a few miles from Mahon. The passengers . / illi l s - ,7 n ° '''.4.'iury, sac from the fright, and from having to ..,I). n .v , r e r,a ), Miles in the mud and rain—Hu ll Observer. a ll, coil* ;:s'i BLACKS.--Previous to the year 1755, "Y the 1( ,;" a ed ether persons employed in coal works, were, kad tll , 7i, r ,° ll la w of Scotland, in a state of slavery. They, DericKi at ' w 'veB and children, if they had assisted for a certain l ti,"ll, and t rey work, became the property of the coa -mas ''' th e sh'vere transferable with the coal works; in the manner Ar e i',:" on the West India estate. . /41 ii t o I, ' T at present is very much in fashion, and__ is elld of tb ave trade its way into several of the Clubs at the West e lPert r h e ,tcncn, where 'many of the members are remarkably p h. ''‘ ltrawing the long bow. 11 1, 4 , i e r , is ters, of the name of Gibson, met the other roe -ar nwath, all burn and brought up in the neighbour -40.4,1\114;Q, . nry'ed ages amounted to 370, the youngest being "d th e At 13 o ldest 73. 4 1, a „, r ussels l as t wee k a b ar b er ' s w if e, f orty years of Lqdii r e - „' who h a d b een marr i e d ten years, without having "kih er "' Rave birth to t h ree b outic i ng b oys, who, with the A v are doin g we'll, lue.,, t t a : l3 ,deville, ca ll e d U ne Angla i se, has been pro 41e 4 ' 4 0 great success at the Theatre des Varietes at Paris. i't fire Andre D umas i s emp l oye d i n a gran d tragedy k i ., ts . entitled Ke an , an d f oun d e d on t h e lif e o f that actor. gtsov u -Lkieorge Jones, the American tragedian, left 7. .I" . ' t ardav, on his voyage to New York. At Boston ig' will produce lon, Mr. Sergeant Talfourd having "M. 411 full permision. 4'.4.,;(111.5• GRAIIAM.—No intelligence has been re lo ninon, '4 town relating to the state of this lady since Monday 4 0 4 ,.%; Her friends consequently feel confident that no un e4 te ,change has taken place. tr ee onel Churchill was to leave town yesterday, to ° l' tl? e e li t ° St. Sebastian, via France, to resume the command TU N "7estrninster Grenadiers. k t th e irl}o..itlnGE WELL s.—Lord Loftus is still staying ~..etlien "-. 1 . Ephraim Hotel. Amongst our arrivals are I.,.ady ' 4 ,11 qa+ Sir John and Lady Sinclair, Sir Latimer Wedding 'talk, e "cral and Mrs. Waddington, Mr. and the Hon. Mrs. D ' Currie, Mr. and Mrs. Ellis, Mr. Auger, &c. 1 1 ,,,--44ts i , n . Clis f p „ `-'uNIBERLAND ELECTION.—The unani eour 1 1 , 1 eg of the independent constituency, expressed in ‘gt 't " ° ' ' Ar. ja n'es.i appearstohave crushed all the hopes of 44 CrieB. A ll thei ‘it e r e° e4n dicip.tt r . idle vaunts of re-action are silenced, tui s n u. ~, .have . they yet mustered . to . contest the field .IPr e , , 'noir malice exhales in idle ribaldry and stupid arile., dill ; and, according to all appearance, Mr. tlip e _ci. jvill A i , St io „ NPlaCe Mr. Blamire without even the shadow of i l ' ben kr. The election is fixed for Friday next.- While eal% traid. [The Tories, it appears, have been making 411 1• s 1 ° the prejudices of the farmers, representing Mr. 1,., z's indisposed to er etuate the Corn Laws.' ti; kstlaus.,tv.4ight, allout p ll p o'clock, the neighbourhood of 4 41 le `reet, Leicester-square, was thrown into great confu- Ziol,,,v,",sea'aeriee of an alarm of fire at the back of tbe e '''„see',l?` i'iciet os Museum. Some tradesmen happening u - veti, it ".eilit under the gate, and with assistance bursting it a . -- tr`, „,' I:'''s discovered that same shavings were on fire, under k ,_'' t enter Work bench, but how it originated is a mystery, ,-"'No;o-h4rlienter left at 6 o'clock. A man was supposed to . be -1 11 e —fling up a staircase. It was put out before the arrival Illeegiees, B Vt t ta , ‘Te ha lt tSSsif IRE BURGHS.—Ma j or Cumming . k - ttt' eg, in consequence of ill health, intimated his wish tek` t ' fr om the representation of the burghs, Mr. J. J. R. N it !Uzi ; ) 4 (l 'te• 3. ° ll n"rer of Rosehaugh, has offered himself as a , n zkst, T1:"---A rumour was spread abroad on Thursday w,_ rl t- e 4t l , a Perso,nhear sold James Barnet, horse-keeper, living iava4'esuor eugh his daughter' for the sum of ten k kist s : 13arnet has ( for ;erne time been lame and unable to 'stiiitt:4l4 the child in question, but, nevertheless, has not l et ) di stant t° use her with - the utmost severity. Hearing of a ''tea, relative of the child's being in this country, from 'ltitift a .; I.',Tned Davy, Barnet thought this a very fitting op a. 4 gr I ° ' gat4in g rid of her. On applying to this man, it'uo4w p r ied T or ta t ll s e her and give him . ten pounds, but whether e rngy il: ' n est likee child, or as a present to es fn ß r a t r h n e e b t, et i t t er is . not An tkilb Of a tnan t y . she has change . the toed an.a . , Iv' ? .i child upon his ba o ck, was first taken and E , 'lSt his house, after which they proceeded through ° N s ?" , With about. half the population following, stopping La w , kinally to As the g riti -e st eeds _ explain the meaning of the . figures. iti e b as n u 0 ,,, ___,,,, gardens it n uraoncrst greatly facilitated the attack, b ie g rew , b ;=_, was heard to deprecate the proceedings, the ee s • ° luter, and the windows were soon smashed to 4111 "-• ' as ne one yet appeared to stay the destruction, they they'enced batter' It utt aec eitm: _, e ng down the door, which : aftersom some time, thi ii l' of demolition The mob now rushed in, and began the i u k inoveZelittoll -linen, baskets saucepans, and ever Ppi 4 , g own l e , flew about in all directions ; one was habited r N o , another in a cloal- and bonnet : never was public ito g i ll carri e d to tabl es g . at libert greater e ' xirernitics-an infuriated mob t ut --- ever ,, ~ b and no one trying to stay them. Chairs, f ro ,i)f th o v :. tiling found in the house-were thrown . down, la eir '. ab out ‘ B n de,w, or smashed to pieces; this was carried on liftel Anted o.clock until half-past 10, when they retired, Wh om bade .with destruction. The burgess constable soon oio b ati l "' aPpearance, heading a posse of constables,.. hers co tt.s._ pressed fro m the public houses. On hearing his tittl iii",n..eit came down from his hiding-place in the garret, %tie half-deads'le and himself had taken shelter, being all the Q.!l seen,v‘. through fright. A candle was brought, when . f a 4 t lll .tb orottn.il a.s, exhibited as was never before witnessed in p ukt ill this affair 6 '.i . the oldest inhabitants. The most curious Read 3 as o f n n ue : t h b ouse, but is divided, yet not the leash damage . Al -" wer e half occupied b another person. The fruit t3tll (' t opoti c i t o h t_all ti, 1., slth oo e trees a re !destroyed in Ba y rnet's garden, while the ap growing luxuriantly as ever in the 'coi n o,._g e ll . ouly divided ` by a fence about two feet high.•••• " 4 tte, MAGAZINE DAY. BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE. The " Experience of Democracy," which heads the present Number, has nothing to be objected to in point of style, but much in point of doctrine. It sets out on the Ii Penseroso principle, with a disposition to look only on the shady side, and make the worst of every thing. If the writer's assertions are to be cre dited, there is no longer a hope for the Constitution. Great Britain is fast hurrying down the rapids of revo lution ; moral and political principle is at a discount ; 071 C branch of the legislature is corrupt and factious ; and another, willing, but to a great extent unable, to effect any considerable or permanent good. Now all this is very easily said, but where be the proofs that the country is in such a hopeless state ? Commerce flou rishes ; society is tranquil and full of confidence ; the operatives in the manufacturing districts are in full employ ; the Conservative party alone are in the low est state of depression.' And long may they continue so, and long may we live to read ingenious Jeremiads in Blackwood, indirectly admitting and lamenting the fact ! " Alcibiades, the Young Man," contains some spirited and characteristic dialogues, and is intro duced by a letter to Walter Savage Landor, penned in a happy vein of mixed humour, irony; and sarcasm. " Isaac Cheek, the Man of Wax," is in Mr. Jerrold's broadest and most marked manner. It is impossible to deny the vigour and raciness of this author's sketches, but at the same time it were to be wish ed that there were a little more good humour and refinement about them ; and above all, that they were not invariably taken from the very dregs and off-casts of the community. Low, trickey attor nies' clerks, vagabond pedlars and showmen, thieves, highwaymen, and their congenial mistresses—creatures in whose adventures the turnkey of Newgate alone can feel an interest; such arc the characters which Mr. Jerrold loves to pourtray, with all the relish and mi nute accuracy of a Crabbe, just as if society in its higher and more settled grades could not furnish him with abundant materials for sarcasm and ridicule. Possibly he may justify himself by the authority of Le Sage and Fielding, but he should bear in mind that these unequalled painters of real life could ascend, as well as descend, in the scale of humanity. They were not always raking for subjects among the stews ; but could describe Spanish and English high and middle life, an Archbishop of Grenada, a Lady Bcllaston, and a Co lonel Bath, quite as readily as a Black George, a Jo nathan Wild, a Captain Rolamo, or a Gil Blas. Thus much by way of objection to Mr. Jerrold's choice of subject. Of his mode of handling, hyper criticism itself can say nothing in dispraise. His dia logues are truth itself. We not only hear his scamps speak, but we catch the very twist of their mouths, and the knowing wink of their eyes, as they round off some quaint sentiment full of droll roguery. We sub join an amusing extract, just presuming by the way that Pops and Cheeks, two itinerant showmen, have been taking a model in wax of one Kemp, a murderer, a fellow whose character, though etched in outline, like Master Barnardine, does not fall fat short of that admirable portrait : For three days Pops continued at his task, and succeeded in obtaining a living likeness of one who was about to become the late Thomas Kemp. Every day Pops narrated to Cheek —who refused to pay a secand visit to the prison—his profes sional success : the head was finished the very day before the trial of the prisoner came on. As, however, the whole facts of the case, from the death-blow to the execution and hanging in chains (the fetters being the gift of Mace the Mayor), arc to be embodied in a play for one of the national theatres, we will not wipe the bloom from what is expected to be the greatest dramatic novelty of the season, by any detail of the matter. Enough for us to say, that Kemp was convicted on the clearest evidence. On the evening of his conviction, Pops—who had won the heart of the head-turnkey by a promise to model his wife's child—gained access to the prisoner. We are not ourselves in all hours, says the adage; and Kemp had evidently been put out of temper by the address of the judge. To shorten our tale, Pops returned to his inn like a man possessed. " What's the matter?" cried Check—" my dear Michael, what ails you ?" " Ails me 2—a ruffian—that I—an artist—l—who have modelled kings—made a dozen princes—that I— " What is the matter ?" " That villain Kemp ! " exclaimed Pops, choking with in dignation. " Good God ! he's not acquitted !" cried Cheek presaging a lost attraction. " Not so bad as that—but my head !—would you believe that he has insulted my head !" " Struck you?" asked Check very calmly. " I mean—my head of his bead? Would you think it— you saw the man —now, would you believe that human vanity could be,so base—you saw the fleshy pimple on the left side of his nose ?" " I remember—almost as big as a pea," said Cheek. " Bigger, much bigger, Mr: Cheek; and so I modelled it —when the villain swore that I was a bungler—an ass—a fool that wanted to disgrace him in the eyes of the world, to scandalize him in the grave, and so saying he seized his head and dashed it down upon the stones. Never mind, Mr. Check, it's all here, in two days you shall see the head again. Yes, he swore that I had enlarged the pimple out of pure malice." " Then he objected" . . . "He objected to nothing but the pimple. He didn't mind standing with the knife in his hand with which he had done the murder—nay, before the trial he had sold me the very clothes he wore when he killed the man—every thing from bat to shoes ; and with the very Weapon, in his identical clothes, he consented to go down to posterity, but be swore that his ghost should haunt me if I dared to put upon his nose a pimple." "It was hardly as big as a pea," said the aggravating Cheek. " I say, Mr. Cheek, much bigger—but whether bigger or less, is not now the point; he has insulted me—the artist— curse me if I don't give him a pimple as big as a marble !" We regret this expression on the part of Pops; but we must beg of the reader his mast liberal extenuation for the many coarse and vulgar subjects which had, doubtless, narrowed the mind of the artist. If he had been capable of rising to the dignity of historian or biographer of great men, elevated by the task, it is impossible that, out of personal spite, he could have magnified a little pea into a large marble. Historians and biographers are incapable of such meanness. The closing paragraph of the above extract will re mind the reader of the dry, pungent sarcasm of L'lngenu and Candide. " Summer Sketches" are graceful and highly finished. There is vigour as well as thought in these stanzas : There are no clouds to checker night ; The winds arc hushed, the skies serene And nature outlined darkly bright, Is still distinctly seen. Remotest ocean's tongue is heard, Declaiming to his island shoes; And wails the lonely water-bird, From yonder marshy moors. This is the realm of solitude; A season, and a scene for thought, When melancholy well may brood On years, that now arc not— On syren years, whose witchery smiled, Ere time had leagued the heart with strife, The Eden of this earthly wild — The paradise of life. They feign, who tell us, wealth can strike In to the thornless paths of bliss; Alas ! its best is Judas-like, To sell us with a kiss. Ambition is a gilded toy, A baited hook, a trap of guile ; Alluring only to destroy, And mocking with a smile. Alas! for what has youth exchanged, The garden of its vernal prime ? Is Care—Sin—Sorrow—more estranged, More gently lenient Time ? Doth Friendship quaff from bowl more deep : Bathes Hope in more delightful streams : Comes Love to charm the pillowed sleep With brighter, holier dreams ? Alas the ship of life is steered More boldly to the ventral main, Only to cope with tempests feared— Lightning, and wind, and rain Around lurks shipwreck ; hidden rocks Beneath the billows darkling lie ; Death threatens in the breaker's shocks And thunder-cloven sky The lines marked in italics are eminently felicitous in expression. The " War of Spartacus" is an inte resting historiette, and we may extend the same praise to the " Recollections of Cadiz during the Siege." In the " Thoughts and Sentiments," from the German of Richter, we find the following striking, though perhaps not novel, ideas. , " LlFE.—Life is an opium, it ex cites us a little at first, and th en l eaves us s l eepy, weary, and disgusted . " — " GENIUS —INFIDELITY. Clever women are often ,, infidels ; m en o f hi g h gen i us are generally believers. —" THE PER SPECTIVE OF LIFE. What has life to show us but the glass door of heaven ? Through this we see the highest beauty, and the highest bliss ; but, a l as , it is not open !"—" LIFE. Man has two minutes and a half to live, one to smile, one to sigh, and a half to love ; for in the middle of this minute he dies."-- MEMORY—HOPE. Two perspective painters lead us, poor bewitched mortals, through the whole theatre THE SUN, LONDON, ricn- of life ; and these are Memory and Hope."—" Pito- GRESS EON. We learn to climb by keeping our eyes, not on the hills that lie behind, but on the' mountains that rise before, us."—" MONEY. No man needs money so much as he who despises it." This last aphorism may be true in the abstract, but certainly not in the particular. We, for instance, have the devoutest veneration for money, holding, with the venerable and virtuous sage, O'Doherty, that " cash is virtue ;" and upon Richter's principle, therefore, we ought to be well endowed in point of po c ket ; but it i s n ot so ; the wheels of Mammon's chariot are marvellously slow in rolling towards us. True, we sometimes hear the sound of his approach in dreams, and rise in cxtaey to bid him welcome : but, alas, it is but a dream, like the " golden" ones of Washington Irving's Wolfert oVeb her. " Poor Will Newbfrry" is a pleasing tale ; and the " Metaphysician" replete with subtle thoughts. On the whole, the Number is an excellent one. FRASER'S MAGAZINE. The portrait, in this month's " Literary Gallery," is one of James Sheridan Knowles, but no more like him, than "we to Hercules." In the first place, honest James, one of the frankest and most cordial of living beings, has nothing of sourness or primness in his phiz ; secondly, he is not lean, or wiry like a Py renean wolf, but jolly, and " more fat than bard be seems"—his periphery bearing, in this respect, no slight resemblance to that of the author of the " Sea sons." The memoir prefixed is smartly written, as Fraser's Memoirs always are, but bestows very penu rious, and, we half suspect, reluctant, praise on our best living dramatist. The writer too, we see, twits James with being a Liberal. Of course he is—how else could he have written " William Tell ?" How else have left so many staunch friends behind him in Ame rica, and been feasted publicly throughout the length and breadth of •the United States ? It is to Knowles's honour that he is a Liberal, and to Oliver Yorke's shame, that, with all his talent, he is just the reverse. " Bacchanalia Memorabilia" is by " Nimrod," alias Mr. Apperton, incomparably the best sporting writer of his age. It is full of lively anecdote, and saga cious observation. One of the former we subjoin, 'for it is far too good to be lost : _ " I once witnessed a rich scene with a drunken man some years ago in the suburbs of Dublin. He was lying on his face by the road side, apparently in a state of physical uncon sciousness. He is dead,' said a countryman of his, who was looking at him. ' and !' replied another, who bad turned him up with his face uppermost; by the Powers, I wish I had just half his disase.' In other words, a moiety of the whiskey he had drank." _ _ The " Possums of A ristophancs" is an ingenious political satire. The " Jew of York" is a well-told narrative, but the horrors are too elaborately laid on. It is very inconvenient to be called upon to shudder through twelve pages. " A letter from Athens to Oliver Yorke" is a lively, desultory notice of Mr. Wordsworth's late volumes of Travels in Greece. Whoever wrote it is a scholar, and an enthusiastic one. We say ditto to the " Prout Papers," which arc learned, and sprightly in their learning. But why is the good Father always so fond of attacking Moore ? It will be long ere he acquires, with all his aptitude, half the various knowledge, or half the genuine fancy, of the author of " Lalla Rookh." " Ireland and the Conciliatory System" is dreary drivel, and the " Gene ral Results of the past Session" not much better. This last, indeed, is unleavened humbug throughout. NEW MONTHLY. There are many amusing, and some witty, articles, in this Number, which is of more than average merit, and which, had it but a little more of the rough, mas culine, healthy vigour of Blackwood, would take a higher stand in the literary world than it does at pre sent. The " Portraits of Notorious Characters," is full of smartness, and not unfrequently of wit. The character of the " Penny-a-liner "—that is to say, the' per: on who draws up " shocking accidents " fur the newspapers, who dines on a "suicide," and whom a "diabolical murder will keep in funds for a week— is admirably drawn : " The penny-a-lincr, like Pope, is known by his style.' His fine Roman hand once seen, may be sworn to by the most cursory observer. But though in this one respect of identity resembling Pope, he bears not in any other the least likeness to author dead or living He has no brother, and is like no brother, in literature. Such as he was, he is. He disdains to accommodate his manner to the ever-altering taste of the times. fie refuse to bow down to the popular idol, innova tion. He has a style, and he sticks to it. He scorns to depart from it, to gratify the thirst for novelty. He even thinks that it improves with use, and that his pet-phrases acquire a finer point and additional emphasis upon every fresh application. Thus, in relating the last fashionable occurrence, how a noble family has been plunged into consternation and sorrow, by the elopement of Lady Prudcntia a month after marriage, he in forms you, as though the phrase itself carried conviction to the heart, that the feelings of the injured husband may be more easily conceived than described.' If' he requires that phrase twice in the same narrative, lie consents to vary it by sayincs that they may be imagined but cannot be depicted.' In reporting an incident illustrative of the fatal effects of taking prussic acid, he states that the 'vital spark is extinct,' and that not the smallest hope is entertained of the unfortunate gentleman's recovery. A lady's bag is barbarously stolen from her arm by a monster in the human form.' A thunder-storm is described as having visited' the metropolis, and the memory of th e oldest inhabitant furnishes no parallel to the ravages of the electric fluid.' A new actress surpasses the most sanguine expectation' of the public, and exhibits talent ' that have sel dom been equalled, never excelled.' A new book is not simply published, it ' emanates from the press.' On the de mise of a person of eminence, it is confidently averred that he hod a hand 'open as day to melting charity,' and that, 'take him for all in all we ne'cr shall look upon his like again.' Two objects not immediately connected are sure to far as the poles asunder ;' although they arc very easily brought to gether and reconciled in the reader's mind by the convenience of the phrase, ' as it were,' which' is an especial favourite, and constantly in request. He is a great admirer of amplitude of title, for palpable reasons ; as when he reports that Yester day the Right Honourable Lord John Russell, M. I'., his Majesty's Secretary of State for the Home Dcpartment, dined with, &c.' He is wonderfully expert in the measure ment of hailstones, and in the circulation of the number of panes of glass which they demolish in their descent." The " Man of no Principles "displays considerable knowledge of life, and the workings of the political heart —if politics have a heart. The idea has, we suspect, been suggested by Galt's arch, satirical tale of the " Member." " Subjects for Pictures," is by L. E L. Why is this young lady always so fond of looking to the gloomy side of humanity ? Life has many sorrows, but it has far more pleasures in store for us, if we will but hunt diligently for them. We have little sympa thy with those poets whose genius has always a frown on its forehead. There is but one rational cause for grief, and that is, want of cash. Surely L. E.' L., with her superior and marketable talents, cannot labour under this afflicting dispensation ? Why, then, is she always in the " doldrums "—she will excuse the vulgarity of this phrase in consideration of its ex pressiveness—let her remember that life has two sides, a sunny as well as a shady one, and that to look perversely only to the latter, is to cultivate inge nuity and task invention, at the expense of health and happiness. It is but fair, however, to state that L. E. L's " Subjects for Pictures" are in a rather more cheerful vein than is her wont. " Harry °Tear don" is a clever Irish tale by Mrs. Hall. " Acre , nouties, both real and fabulous," is in Leigh Hunt's liveliest and most attractive style. We have read it with infinite pleasure. " Records of a Stage Veteran" lives many characteristic, theatrical anecdotes. TAIT' S MAGA ZINE , .— Simphin and Marshall. Tait is by no means satisfied with the conduct of the Whigs diiring the last Session of Parliament. His summary of the proceedings of 'the Session of 1836 is the severest attack that has been made upon them since its commencement, even by the Tory Press. We question the wisdom of employing such hard words as he sometimes uses, in condemning the policy of men whose faults ale wholly the consequence of extreme caution. We admit that the Whigs have not treated the Lords as they ought to have done—that they have disappointed the expectations of nine-tenths of their countrymen, in not reining in the insolence of the Peerage ; but we maintain that there is yet time, as there will be opportunities enough to remedy this omission of public duty. " Humphrey Hawkins, who could see things in that light,' is a capital article. We shall be glad to meet with many such in the pages of " Tait." The characters of Oki Ginger, the retired drysalter, Poppy the physician, Pounce the lawyer, and Verjuice the old gentleman's amiable housekeeper, are quite in keeping with that of the hero of the tale. " Tours and Detours in Scotland, in the Summer of 1836, by the Wards of Clapham," is continued in this Number, in the same light-hearted sketchy style which characterized the articles which have already appeared from the same source, arid or} 'the same sub- V s SDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, I ‘ , P , .4_ ect. The chapter on " Scotch and English Poets and Poetesses," is a choice September °Erin:. We accept it, in the name of as m a ny of our readers as read " Tait," with every expression. of thankfulness. The " Reviews of New Works" are numerous, and as usual, each is made to comprise an admirable summary of the work itself. THE DUBLIN UNIVERSII'Y MAGAZINE. Simphin and Marshall. This is really a brilliant Number. It would Merit that title did it contain nothing but the new chapter of '`College Romance," with which its pages are en riched : but, in addition to the " Bribed Scholar," by O'Brien, we have the " Fawn of Springvale," by the author of " Traits and Stories of the Irish P easan t r y ;" a fine full-length portrait of . Sterne, filling an appro priate space in the " Gallery of Illustrious Irish men ; and the " Daughter. 3 of Time—an Eclogue," written in a strain worthy of our old dramatists. " At tractions of Ireland, No. II." is a still more interest ing article than that which preceded it. Our extract from this Number shall be from the " Daughters of Timc." We shall begin within a few lines of the be-. ginning—here premising that we consider the cl ose o f the poem, which we cannot possibly, quote, much supe rior to the beginning CHANGE. I prythee, peace, good Nther— We are no longer infants to be hushed By thine old nursery lullabies —we're grown Too wise for dreams and visions; shrewdly believing Just what we see, no more. CUSTOM. Father, thou hearest The same old harpy voice, that oft bath howled Upon the eve of Ruin—proclaiming lies Which ever go before an empire's fall. "Ps true, her dupes arc heedless of the Past, And for experience substitute conjecture: With wisdom's name she stamps base ignorance To buy men's souls more cheaply. Thus she wins The brainless many-mouthed —to repeat Her new and strange proposals every hour— If heard—still stranger follow : If denied She rageth like a Bcdlamite—nor ever Can mortal have one hour unteased by Change. CHANGE. Why, all thou seest is change—birth, growth, decay, And death, and reproduction. Even herself With eye reverted, hurried) down that stream, Which, from the darkness of the future, rushes Into the oblivion of the formless past— The slave of Change. Whom blindly she derides Prating prescriptive nonsense from old scrolls And mummy cases while with queenlike air She wreathes her parchment countenance in scorn, Because the young waves still push on the old, Nor stay to list the babble of her age— Words oft repeated, till they pass for things Of meaning long bereft. CUSTOM. These words, 0 Father, Are justice, order, and prescriptive right, The truth of God—thy sanctioned usages, The accumulated wisdom of experience, The aggregate of maxims, morals, laws, Tried rules and principles, which constitute The very structure of the social state : Thy work of ages, Father. She would sweep Enactments, rights, conventions, ancient landmarks, In one vast wreck : And on the ruin build The structure of some shallow theory, A bubble blown from her own idle breath. CHANGE. She calls abuses sacred : and maintains The fallacies of unenlightened ages. The moss-grown dungeon and the noisome cell, Whose air is reeking with the tears and sorrows Of many generations ; the worn fetter— The chartered usurpation. Such the toys, The doting treasures of the Beldame's age— Crimes, long-continued, pass with her for right; Moss, cobweb, rust, are sacred in her eyes; Oft repetition, truth. CUSTOM. Father, 'tis easy_ For those who love not and not understand The set:led fabric of the social state —Beneath whose sheltering bulwarks man hath grown To what he now deems wisdom—to find fault, The imperfection of all human things ; To point out errors, and then cry " pull down," Nor wait to think if they can build anew; Such is her boasted wisdom. Even now While walking sadly, my accustomed rounds, To guard the outworks of the ancient world; She burst upon me, with her smutted face, Her tattered cap awry—red arms akimbo, Blood-thirsting eye, and meretricious throat, That with seditious warwhoop urgeth on Her yelping pack of bull. dogs. CHANGE. 'Tis thy blindness Creates these phantoms to thy reverend eyes, Unused to the full day. Thus have I seen The owl reel frightened front his mossy turret, And wheel blind circles in the laughing dav, The scoff of all the woods ; scared by small birds, Who, if 'twere night, had sated his foul maw. TIME. ye Al e : P r usual mr y a o tls ul consequence t oleisoftensrovobserve dee a oc p rod t o e t u o f rn. childish , r u i r i will t a contests. wrong, T lheard Y Fo ge o One side of questions—and not see the other. Thou Custom superstitiously opposed Even to improvement's name. Thou Change, the dupe Of every quack who cries the last state nostrum. Thou Custom art a courtier ; Change a clown, Who loves low company, and hates his betters. One stands stiff-laced with cloistered dignity; Maddening the vulgar with strange orac!es. One for the coin would venerate the rust, The other fling both rust and coin away. Thus for six thousand years ye've moved together With the harsh creek of some disordered wheel Whose adverse sides move contrary—though borne One self-same way by a superior power— Good engines—though blind guides. THE SCOTTISH MAGAZINE. Baldwin and Cradock. A clever Number of a very promising periodical, which has established its head-quarters at Glasgow. As a matter of course, considerable space is devoted to subjects purely local ; but, the articles on general sub jects are of a class to do justice to the good sense, zeal, and literary ability of the conductors, be they few or many. " Young Germany," the " Provincial Mana ger, by a Respectable Vagabond," and the " State of Ireland," are all excellent articles in their way. The following extract from the second of these, is all that we can afford space for in our notices of this month : " The theatrical manager is a curious kind of cross-breed between the respectable man, or man of business, and the re spectable vagabond, as we have on a former occasion described these two classes. He has the aversion to'settled common place labour of the latter, with the eye to the main chance of the former. Like all players, the work-day raiment of this world ; as seen by the honest light of day, has no attractions for him ; he needs tinsel and paste jewels glittering in the cross-lights of a hundred lamps. He is not satisfied with thinking plain thoughts, and speaking plain words ; he must strut under the influence of passsionate or imaginative excite ment mouthing bombast phrase, amid buzzes or laughter.' 4 He is sophisticate' the plain food nature bestows is insipid to his palate, without the piquant addition of sauces. Like our whole tribe, he is fonder of stimulating dreams than of languid realities ; he is the dog who prefers the softened and fairy-like image in the moonlight water to the real bone. That poor dog has been injuriously dealt with—made an object of mockery and insulting comparisons. He was a poet ; and poets, and all akin to them in habits, if not in genius, ought to cherish him as such. We ought to adopt him as our crest, for he is the badge of all our tribe. But to return to our ma nager (who may in some of his moods be more fittingly compared to the dog in the manger), while one half of his life is revelled out in dreams like these, the other is devoted to pursuits which bear a resemblance to thoec of the denizens of real life. He is sssnsible of those natural impulses which prompt kings to bend the wills of whole people to their sway, generals to marshal men, and concentrate their energies for the carrying of one point, the merchant to combine exchanges, and add gold to gold. The manager finds no footing on the pre-occu pied ground of business life, and strives to rear his structures on the shifting and shadowy materials he finds within the walls of a theatre. He does not exactly say, with Milton's hero, that it is better to feign in a certain nameless place than servo anywhere ;' but he takes a pleasure in playing the part of legislator, general, or merchant, among the volatile denizens of our fantastic republic. ,‘ This strange combination of seemingly incompatible cha racters in one person, betrays itself at a very early periOd of the career of him who is predestined to attain in after-life the 'managerial dignity. I have frequently amused myself with watching its gradual and unconscious development. Your future manager is rarely a first-rate actor, but he must be one above mediocrity. His energy raises him above walking gen tlemen and supernumeraries, his want of fine imaginal keeps him fr om attaining the rank to which his energy would seem to entitl e him. For a long time we find him retained as the regular occupant of the heavy tragedy, or the genteel characters ; that it, he plays the secondary parts when a bet ter actor is present, and the first parts when no better actor is to be had. He seldom remains long in one company. There is something about his acting, neither decidedly good nor decidedly bad, that renders it impossible either for the public or the manager to estimate his precise value. He is generally over-rated at first, and under-rated afterwards. He is warmly received, but the public favour soon cools, and with it cools that of the manager ; our hero finds it expedient to look round him for a new engagement. Thus tossed about, and constantly picking up new associates, he insensibly acquires an extensive knowledge of the peculia rities of character, and a crie.cl of dealing with them. He becomes a kind of referee and arbiter in the disputes which arise from time to time ; his activity is found available in get ting up and managing theatrical funds and similar business. He feels himself of importance among his fellows ; and he feels that this is not owing to his histrionic powers, which are still, according to his own opinion, far from being duly ap preciated. He has by this time become a stumbling block in the way of the manager, for that dignitary must, from the very nature of his tenure of office, bear like the Turk no brother near the throne.' An explosion takes place, and our hero finds himself so circumstanced, that' he has no resource left but to avail himself of the impression entertained by a pretty extensive circle of actors of his business talents, to draw together a company of his own, and set up as.manager on his dwn account. This daring adventure is facilitated by the habit he has contracted of not trusting altogether to his theatrical talents for conciliating public favour, and prepping up his questionable claims to applause by conciliating a num ber of private friends and patrons. He generally succeeds in finding some honest citizen, who has felt his overpowering sense of his own dullness alleviated by the condescension of a more volatile companion, and who unites his purse-strings to , let him have a fair start. . " Once a manager he becomes another man. He feels that the whole fortune of his little state rests upon his Atlantean shoulders. He is pUtTed up with the importance of his posi tion, and, at the same time, depressed by a sense of its respon sibilities. He becomes grandiloquent and patronising to the tradesmen be employs. He is the courtly gentleman to those whose patronage he hopes for—blending a sense of - his im portance as proprietor and dictator of an establishment,' with a desire to amuse and conciliate every stranger he meets. In his transactions with performers whom he wishes to engage in his company he is a perfect courtier and diplomatist. flis voice is low and timid in its tones—he paints the popularity and respectability of his establishment in the most glowing terms—he evinces a delicate and discriminating yet flattering sense of the excellencies of the party whose services he seeks to obtain ; no novice can withstand him. " Within the walls of his theatre, the manager appears in a ve7y, different light. He there assumes the despot's frewn ; the irrevocable nature of Jove's decrees is a joke to his; Justice Midas was hut a faint type of him. The liveliest sou brette may not talk above her breath if he forbids; the trun cheoned hero and the crowned king bend in mute homage when the tail of his dressing-gown rustles angrily past ; even call-boys tremble like mice in their holes as he approaches. He is uncontrouled sovereign of the realms of pasteboard and paint. From the foot-lamps to the back wall there breathes not the soul who may with impunity even question his com mands. The scene does not glide with less hesitation along its rail at the push of the scene shifter, than to the animated puppets of the st.lge hasten on hearing the manager's voice to the place assigned them. He stands in the centre of his do main, and secs all around him, scenes and human beings, moving in implicit obedience to his will ; the whole wide stage and all and everything upon it seem but a more enlarged body, every part of which is filled up and animated by his mind. What wonder that under these circumstances he should feel the whole merit of the performance centering in himself ! That lady's voice is sweet and tuneful; the.deep bass of that gruff looking personage makes the innermost recesses of the shilling gallery dance and quiver; the pathos of one, and the power of another actor are overwhelming ; there is the music of form and motion in the lithe gestures of that dancer ; . and the scenes around us bespeak the hand of one who has drunk deep of the beauties of external nature, and can express them boldly . with the brush : but the manager feels that his is the master mind which has mingled all these ingredients into one luscious draught—that all these talents arc his by conquest'—that Ile alone it is in truth who paints, dances, sings, and plays for the delight of the audience. No wonder a mere mortal man thus situated should grow dictatorial and arrogant. He labours under the same glorious hallucination as kings; and if nature had but gifted managers Kith sufficient power to know their own characters, and compare them with those of others, the kings of tragedy, instead of being the most inefficient and tedious characters on the stage would, from the exquisite fidelity of their representation, become the most attractive. " We must not blame the manager for being dictatorial : as we have said before, it is the only way to rule that strange community, a company of players. Free governments and representative systems may do well enough among those whO have permanent dwellings and occupations, who, having been born and bred among " their own people," have a thousand ties to unite them to their kind ; but in the camp or on the stage, they would be strangely out of place. Let us reflect that, in order to make a good actor, it is almost indispensable that he should be the creature of impulse ; that the great ma jority of actors are without education, and that their scrambling -mode of life exposes them to manifold temptations ; we must see at once that the iron will' of a Nicholas is necessary to keep them toe-ether, and at work. Bentham himself must have admitted—nay, Bentham was a national being—but Robert Owen himself could never have dreamed of a theatri cal company governed by the principles of the new moral world.' The manager has •to keep ignorant conceit in its proper place; he has to deter. those whose moral sense has been scared, but whom necessity often forces him to employ to stop a gap in his ranks, from conducting themselves in such a manner as would confirm the popular prejudice against tho actor's character; be has to bind the dilatory and thoughtless to prompt and simultaneous action ; he has to produce mo tnentancous and startling effects, with nerveless, discordant, and tardy instruments." THE ASIATIC JOURNAL —Allen and Co. The sketches of the later history of British India arc continued in this Number. They are by no means so animated as the ettbject would warrant. Most of the descriptions, even of battles, arc tame mid spirit less—for mere dry details, that would pass very well in a general history of a country, read very heavily in a series of sketches purporting to be written for a The " Fakeer of the Cliff" is by. far the Ma gazine.most interesting article in this Number. The Notes for the Month have been carefully selected, and arc ar ranged with more than usual care. She following ac count of the British establishment at Cliivia Punji, will be found interesting. We copy it from a very clever article, evidently written by a person well con versant with the state of the Indian population : " Notwithstanding some instances of treachery and vindic tiveness, which occurred upon our first attempt at coloniza tion on the Kasiah bills, the opinion formed of the native character is altogether highly favourable ; •the inhabitants be ing described, by all who have had an opportunity of observ ing them, as an honest, industrious race of people, possessing many admirable qualities, which only require to be drawn out by favourable circumstances. Their religion is rather of an ambiguous nature. The brabmins, who have visited them, have not been a little scandalised by the slender catalogue of their deities; and though they contrived to make many of the rajahs entertain high notions of their sacred character, and the influence which they possess in heaven, and ought to possess upon earth, they were unable to extort a confession of belief in pll that is contained in the shastras. Beef, to the Kasiah, being . almost a necessary of life, and always a luxury, which it required too strong, a degree of self-denial to relin quish, one important dogma of the faith it was found impossi ble to establish ; and while guilty of the sacrilege of slaughter ing the cow, the brabmins must despair of bringing them into the pale of their religion. The chiefs, however, of these hill tribes are very desirous of being considered orthodox; the Jynthea family were at least half converts to the brahminical faith, and the Rajah at Chirra baasts himself a full descendant from the sun or moon, and to have been a Rajpoot from ever lasting : his great grandfather, however, was known to be a cow-eater. All the Rajahs, who obtained any possessions upon the plains, instantly became strict adherents to the dictates of Brihm, striving to conceal, by every device, the heresy of thelle forefathers, while those who remained on the hills continued to follow the rude religion of their ancestors, and soared above the prejudices of caste. The governments of the Kasiah tribes were all more or less democratic republics—every man possessing nearly an equal vote, each republic being headed . by a leader, who was assisted by a standing council ; the leadership was usually hereditary, the succession devolving to the sister's son, to the exclusion of the direct line, either male or female. They burn their dead, but have fewer superstitious ceremonies than the people of the plains. After cremation, the ashes of the deceased person are collected, and preserved 1 in earthen jars, whiCh are enclosed in a stone coffer, over which the relatives erect a rude sort of monument, consisting of se veral immense slabs of stone, sometimes amounting- to seven ; the wealth of the individual being indicated by the' number of these stones, which are placed in an upright position, the tallest occupying the centre : some of them are twenty feet ns-i iE.i 4nd of proportionate breadth. The houses of the Ka IS are built in a good substantial manner, and, withoneremarkable indifferent 'exception, they appear to be by no means ..to the comforts of life. As yet, however, they se em to pa% e termed TO idea of the luxury of cleanliness , be in g excessively dirty, both in their houses and their persons, neither washing th e skin or changing their clothes as often as must be necessary, both for health, and the comfort of the unfortunate st ranger who may happen to come in contact with them. This con tempt for decent attire is accompanied by anincongruous love of finery ; few are so poor as to be without a silver ornament, and those who are sufficiently wealthy, are decked in trinkets of gold. There does not appear to be many distinctions be tween the Rajahs and th eir p eo p l e , the former contenting them selves with clot h es of a less dingy description than those of their suite ; their houses are in few respects better ; and the prin • cipal portion of their revenues being derived from fines, the sources of their wealth are not very extensive. Though not di s obliging, the Kasialis are plainand even blunt, in their manuers: their countenances assimilate very closely with those of the Malays, whom they somewhat resemble in the vindictiveness of their character : they are, however, a good humoured, cheerful race, not quarrelsome with each other, but having little command over their passions when provoked. Accustomed to hard labour from their childhood, they are stout, active, and willing to work ; the women being equally hardy and pains -taking as the men. Though not deficient in capacity, they have advanced very little, by their own unas sisted endeavours, in any of the useful arts, having no written language, and speaking a barbarous dialect, which is only em• ployed i n oral communication, their accounts being kept by notches on a stick. They have not as yet contrived any means for the transport of weighty or bulky substances, all their bur thens being carried on the back. . The heaviest loads are con ueyed in this manner, by means of a sling, constructed of split bamboo, which passes across the forehead, and encloses the hurthen ; and many will travel a distance of twelve miles, along a very bad road, laden in this way, with a burthen of a hundred pounds in weight. They have done little' or nothing to remove the difficulties which nature has placed in the way of egress and regress; not, apparently, perceiving the great advantage which would result from opening thoroughfares ', throughout the country. They have not yet discovered the use of the saw in cutting:planks, but are very expert with the cleaver and the adze ; sliming, indeed, that there is nothing they cannot accomplish, under the super'entendence of skilful and experienced persons. Their fondness for gay clothing, and the large sums which the welilthy arivaugst them already expend in the purchase of ornaments, wilt doubtless stimulate the whole coinmonity to exertion, now that gn 1 . :6r a prospect of increasing their wealth is opening before &era." MONTH); 3' REPOSITORY. We are afraid, from the complexion of the koresent Number, that this periodical will feel the loss of its late editor in more respects than one. There is le. , s original matter than usual, and what is, is not of first rate quality. " Reason in Duelling," thong,h the Op posite of what its title would imply, passable. The great praise bestowed on the talents of a writer who poured forth a quantity of bombastic. rubhiah in . • the Times, under the style and title of llunny mede, is not calculated to give us a veryhi?„:l; idea of the writer's taste or critical powers. Iu " Ccitical Notices" we find a variety of very indifferent articios, - and " The Past Session" contains many harsh and un just remarks on the Government generally, -and on Lord John Russell in particular. COURT MAGAZINE. . The Number before us contains two engravings, one a portrait of Lady Vyvian, and the other a sketch of the Marquis of Sligo's fine park at Westport. The former is finished with great skill and delicacy, and is the portrait of a very lovely woman. Of the literary contributions, consisting, as usual, of tales, essays, and criticisms, the best is a striking narrative, entitled the " Hazard Table." Of the remaining tales, the less said the better. LONDON and EDINB UR Gil PHIL OSOP II ICA L MAGAZINE. R. Taylor, Red Lion-court. A learned article, from the pea of '2,lr. Ivory, takes the lead in the present Number. It is entitled, "On such Functions as can be expressed by Serieses of Periodic Terms," and its Weet is to show the ge ncral inapplicability of the differential mode of inves tigation adopted by La Place, in his theory for the attraction of spheroids approaching to spheres. Those who stand up for the unrestricted theory of the French geometer are called upon to. reply to this paper. There is a spice of controversy in some of the succeeding articles, to which we have no objection. Nothing is better calculated to elucidate truth, if it is conducted without those acrimonious personalities which have too often shown the littleness of the greatest men. In the present case, we are bound to express our de cided disapprobation of the disingenuous conduct of Mr. Hudson towards Dr. Apjohn. The other papers, which are, for the most part, strictly scientific, are of a superior order. Among those discoveries which are almost every day rewarding . the labours of the persc vering inquirer into nature, we find one announced in the account of the proceedings of the British Associa tion, which is likely to be attended with most important results. A: Crosse,' Esq., of Broomfield, Somerset, has, by an ingenious application of the voltaic battery to water impregnated with various mineral substances, succeeded in producing twenty-four different minerals, and among these crystalline quartz. He repeated these experiments a hundred times, and always with the same results. He is fully convinced that it 'is possible to make even diamonds, and that at no distant period. every kind of mineral will be formed by, the ingenuity of man. We may find that the aichyrnists were right after all. The account of the Sivatherium Giganteum, an enormous fossil animal of'a new ruminant genus, lately found in a valley of the Sub-Himalayan mountains, is highly curious and interesting. CHRISTIAN REFORMER. , Sherwood and Co. " Notices of Sir James Mackintosh's Theological Reading and Opinions," the first article in the pre r sent Number, is very ihteresting ; but so short, that it is little more than a whet to imblic curiosity on a sub ject on which the public are na:u.aly anxicui to know all that can be known. Vt'e hope, there:ore, the " Notices" will be continued. 'inc paper headed, " On Paul's wi.3l) to change his voice," turns upon the interpretation, of the words cc?,;vgas 1'71: (tn V Y i l/ IL , which the autilor contends, with great ingenuity, and we should also bay success; should be rendered, " use my voice instead," as if the, apostle had said, I wish I could address you orally instead of writing to you. We recommend the perusal of the speeches deli vered at the late meeting of the Weskit' Unitarian Society, held at Bristol, to those bigots who pretend to deny the name of Christian to the Unitarians. If this sect, so much spoken against, were better known, there would, we are persuaded, he more of that Chris tian charity which they eminently. exercise towards other sects, extended to them. The speeches to which we have alluded also display a very . great degree of talent, and show that the speakers are men of .highly cultivated minds. Fr;)m the article entitled " American Intelligence," we copy the following. pretty and pleasing verses:— THE WINGED WORSHIPPERS, [Addressed to two Swallows that flew into a Church during • Divine Service.] . - Gay guiltless pair, What seek ye from the fields 'of Heaven ? • Ye have no need of prayer— Ye have no sins to be forgiven ! Why perch ye here, Where mortals to their Maker bend ? Can your pure spirits fear The God ye never could raend ? Ye rover knew The crimes for which we come to weep ; Penance is not for you Blcss'd wmdcrers of,the, upper deep. . To you 'Cs given To, wake sweet Nature's untaught lays ; Beneath the arch of Heaven To chirp away a life of praise. Then spread each wing Far, far above, o'er lakes and lands, And join the choirs that sing In yon blue dome no t reared with :lands. Or if ye stay To note the consecrated hour, Teach , me the airy wav, And let me, try your envied power. Above the crowd, On upward wings could I but fly, I'd bathe in yon bright cloud, And seek the stars that gem the sky. 'Twere Heaven inCood Through N fieldsnt uNature's c, s of trackl esscharms 01;fehe feed, t to soar— On And Nature's own great God adore. THE FARMER'S MAGAZINE , . The Commutation .of Tithe's Act for England and Wales only received the Royal Assent on the 13th of August ; and yet here we have a copy of it verbatim , Su subdivid e d and arranged as to leave nothing doubt— ful respecting the legal construction of its most abstruse provisions. This is a new feature in Magazine intelli gence, and deserves to be highly prized by the agricul turalists, for whom this work is chiefly intended. Be sides the usual quantity of . agricultural reports, letters, miscellaneous hints to the growers of such and such d2scriptions of grain, the rearers of such and such breeds of cattle, &c., this Number is embellished with two very fairly executed engravings. A young man of a wealthy family, having outrun the liberal allowance made for his support in Paris, had re course to the Israelites, who very generously gave him 3,000 f. for his bills to the amount of i2,000f. The bills became due, but the improvident youth was unable to take them up ; war rants mere issued for his arrest, and be, rather than be confined within the walls of the new building in the Rue de Clichy, kept himself concealed, coming out on Sunday to enjoy the society of his gay associates. This went on till a short time ago,4vhen, one Sunday evening, while he was in full glee with a party, two or three men were observed to station themselves under an opposite gateway, with the evident intention of watc hing the movements of the debtor. The hilarity of 'the thoughtless youths was undisturbed, and the punch continued to circulate till they were interrupted by a message to one of them, a medical student, requesting him to come to the assis tance of a female in the house, who had been suddenly taken in labour. The young doctor went out, and ere long returned ith a smiling countenance. lie had not only safely delivered the lady of her burden, but conceiving an ideas - or the escape of his friend, who was beset bY the harpies of the law, he re eommerded him to suffer himself to be enveloped in linen and carried out on a litter, as if he were the female above men tioned, about to be taken to the Lying-in hospital. This was done, and a small trunk, so wrapped up as to represent a new born infant, was placed in his arms. The ruse succeeded, and the vigilance of the sentinels was completely diverted by the offer of 5 francs a-piece, if they aeuld assist in eonve)ing the mother and child to an asylum ; but which they declined, de_ Glaring, that they were engaged on a different duty.—Galig. nani'Lffessenger.